I've grown accustomed to her face
by JazzElf
Summary: A Nittle Grasper story written from Tohma's viewpoint. Charts the ups and down of the band and its members over a ten year period. Mika x Tohma Ryuichi x Tohma.
1. Chapter 1

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Disclaimer: Gravitation is owned by Maki Murakami. I am not Maki Murakami, which is a shame. 

Author note: Some people may not like the way Tohma is portrayed in this chapter, but he can't be an evil scheming bastard _all_ the time.  
Expect manipulative deviousness in the later chapters.

resubmitted because I had a weird formating moment, and forgot the disclaimer.

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Ten years ago...  
A year before Noriko got pregnant and got married, two years before Tohma married Mika, five years before Ryuichi went to America. Four thirty in the morning in the artist's bar at The Roundhouse. Tohma and Noriko sat at a table on their own. They were almost the last people there. Tohma had changed into street clothes. Noriko had simply thrown her trench coat over her stage costume. 

Noriko lifted her shot glass. "And a one two three and down the hatch."  
"Eh To-chan! You didn't drink!"  
Tohma shook his head and watched as the room slowly caught up with him again.Noriko reached for the bottle and refilled her glass.

"Now let's do this properly."  
She raised the shot glass and stared at it uncertainly, "to dick head exes and absent friends."

Tohma looked at his hands. How funny! he made his living from his hands and he'd never really looked at them before. He had nice hands he decided. The line of the veins along the back, no webbing. They were strong hands. Good hands. He pushed his palms together in the beginning of a warm up exercise.

"To-chan?"

"No more. I've had enough. My shands will be haking tomorrow."  
That was funny he decided, he didn't know why that was funny, but it was hilarious. He started laughing. Noriko started laughing too.

"We're not working tomorrow," she reminded him. And for some reason that was funny too.

The couple at the bar turned and stared at them.

"We're making too much noise... Sshhh!" Tohma whispered.

"We're noisy muthas" Noriko announced loudly. They both started giggling.

It took a while before they both regained their composure.

Noriko raised her shot glass again. "Come on! I did a toast - you have to drink to it."

"No."

"Wimp! Wimp! Wimp!"

"Sod it! What were we drinking to again?"

"Dick head exes and absent friends. Ready? A one, two and a three."

"You sound like a drummer." Tohma remembered why that wasn't the best thing to say only after he'd said it.  
Noriko didn't look too bothered.

"All drummers are dick heads," she stated. "Do you think we should drink to that too?"

"Nori-chan forget about him. He was a bastard."

"Yah! I know - here's to more bastards in the great big ocean."

"Why do you always go for bastards? You deserve better than that. You're pretty, and talented, and vivacious."

"Hmm! If I didn't know you better I'd think you were offering." Noriko refilled her shot glass and giggled.

"Maybe I am?"

"Man! You're wasted!"

"Am not!"

"Are too." Noriko stuck her tongue out, "You're pissed as a fart! I'm going to blackmail you about this tomorrow. What will Ryu-chan say? Think he'll scratch my eyes out?"

"Shut up! People are looking."

" 'People are looking, people are looking'. We make our living out of being looked at To-chan. Get with the program!"

"Chuck me some of that". Tohma reached for the bottle. Filled his glass.

"You sure that's wise." Noriko giggled.

"I need to settle down. Do the wife and kids thing. I'm nearly twenty five."

"So? I dated a thirty six year old once. And he wasn't old at all. Not where it counted." She gave a dirty laugh, that made it quite clear where it counted.

"No. I'm serious. I'm getting old... My parents are talking about getting me married off, doing my duty. All that crap...  
I like you Nori-chan. You like me. People never see beyond the music videos, and the magazines, and the talk in the gossip columns. There's never going to be any one out there for either of us."

"Now you _are_ drunk and maudlin." Noriko removed the bottle.

"Seriously Nori-chan. You must think that sometimes. Don't you think we'd be better off together?"

"_I_ think you're doing a weird gay best friend thing, and it's kinda cute."

"I'm _not_ gay."

"No of course not. You just sleep with guys."

"I've only slept with two guys."

"And how many girls _exactly_?"

"Shut up!"

"Denial is not a river in Egypt," Noriko said in accented English.

She reached for the bottle. "And I'm going to drink to that. Then I'm going home."

She smacked Tohma's hand. "Not you, you've had enough... It's getting late."

"Yeah."

"To-chan about what you said earlier."

"It's alright. I was being weird."

"It's just I have this friend..."

"No. Absolutely not. And no."

"A _girl_ friend... She's very pretty. Comes from Kyoto – her father runs a temple or something. She's at Tokyo U at the moment. About to graduate."

"Clever girl."

"Did I mention she's very pretty? Stunning in fact. Does modeling work."

"You sleeping with her or something?"

Noriko giggled. "Bitch!"

"Come on. What's wrong with her?"

"She's engaged."

"Nori-chan have you gone quite insane?"

"And she doesn't want to be. It's an arranged marriage - one of those practically from the cradle jobs. The thing is, she doesn't like him, and he doesn't like her. Her father's really traditional, and he's pushing it. It's doing her head in."

"Boyfriends?"

"She's like me. She only dates bastards."

"Hmm... What's she like?"

"She's a total bitch." Noriko saw Tohma's expression, "In a _good_ way. She's an enjoyer, always has a good time, makes the best of things, hardworking but only when it suits her. Stroppy as all fuck, doesn't take shit from anyone. She's very upfront and she's got this really sardonic sense of humour, and she's kind of cynical. Not in a bad way, but if she doesn't like you, she'll tell you so, and she doesn't like pop music much anyway. She's not going to go fan girl on you."

"I'm not sure about this."

"Her modeling agency are holding a party next Friday. If you're still up for it tomorrow I'll blag an extra invite and you can come and check her out. Seriously To-chan I really think you'd like her."

"She's a total bitch... Stroppy as all fuck, doesn't take shit from anyone." Tohma muttered to himself.

He took another shot of whiskey and coughed at the raw taste. He _hated_ whiskey. Why did he never remember that?  
Why did he always buy the stuff? _Why did I buy it? _"Because Mika drinks it."  
He rang her mobile again. Still no answer.

He tried Eiri's landline again. It rang and rang. He was just about to give up.

"Hello?" some one said sleepily. The pink haired kid. Tohma wasn't sure if he wanted to talk to him or not.

"Hello... Who's there?"  
Some one muttered something in the background.

"But it might be some one in trouble." Shuichi said, apparently forgetting he was still on the phone. More muttering. "You're so mean. I read this story in the paper once... I do know how to read... You are so nasty... Oh right! Hello. Are you still there?"

_Don't say anything, hang up._

"Good evening Shindou kun. May I speak to Eiri?"

"Seguichi san" Shuichi sounded concerned, "it's awfully late."

There was more muttering in the background. Shuichi whispered something.

"I'm sorry Seguichi san, Yuki can't come to the phone right now. Is it very important? It is rather late."

_Damn you. Die in agony you pink haired brat. And he's called Eiri not Yuki. Why can't you call him by his actual name? You've been together long enough. Now put me over to him, you little tart before I fire your arse._

"I was worried about Mika. She's not picking up her phone"

"_Anne_ is away this evening."

_Sister? When did you start calling her sister? She can't stand you. You little gobshite._

"Where is she? Has she gone to Kyoto?"

There was more muttering in the background. "Just tell him to fuck off," Eiri said distinctively.

Shuichi whimpered, "Seguichi-san, she isn't in Kyoto either, she's visiting a friend. I'm sorry. Do you want to leave a message?"

There was an unexpected softness in Shuici's voice; a tone Tohma had never heard anyone use to him before. It took a second for him to recognise it. _Don't pity me you little punk._

"Um..." Shuichi was hesitant. "Is everything OK? Are _you_ alright?"

_You patronising little jerk._

There was more muttering in the background.

"No. No. It's fine. I'm sorry to bother you so late."

"Ah well. Goodbye then."

Shuichi put the phone down.

"I've made a fool of myself," Tohma told the whiskey bottle. He poured another measure. He didn't notice the taste this time.

Noriko! Noriko loved him. Noriko was always there for him. Noriko was the best person in the world.

He pressed seven on his speed dial

"To-chan?" Half curious-half laughing. He knew she was the one to call.

"Nori-chan I love you."

"To-chan?" definitely a slight edge to her voice. The night time Noriko, wild and slightly dangerous.

The Noriko who was never in bed before four, who smoked like a chimney and liked coke, who could drink the boys under the table, knew all the good clubs...

The old Noriko, before they all grew up. She was slightly drunk, he could hear it in her voice.

Someone muttered something in the background. There was a slight thud against the receiver as Noriko put her hand over the phone and whispered something.

"Moshi, moshi?"

"It's alright To-chan, I'm here"

"I didn't wake you up did I?"

"No it's fine, Testuya and I went out this evening. We just got back."

"Hmm. You still with that goat?"

Noriko giggled, "he's not a goat, he's my big bad bear."

"He's got a beard like a goat. An old billy goat gruff"

"My husband isn't a Billy Goat, he's a bear. Screw you To-chan."

"That's not a very nice thing to say to your best friend."

"Shouldn't call my husband a goat then. Arsehole"

There was more muttering in the background. Noriko covered the handset again.

"Moshi, moshi?"

"Just taking it outside, Testuya... To-chan are you still there?"

"Don't you hate the rain?"

"Hmm. Not really. Rain is fun. Somedays I wish I was Saki's age again and could just go outside and jump in puddles and no one would care."

"Jump in the puddles anyway. Who gives a shit. Ryu would jump in puddles"

"Ryu-chan doesn't give a shit what people think."

"I wish I was Ryuichi."

"What? You wish to be chronically broke, talk to soft toys (and I swear he thinks that fragging rabbit talks back sometimes), be psychologically damaged, have a personality disorder, and need a gazillion billion years of rehab before you can live a normal life?"

"Don't say things like that about Ryu."

"..."

"Don't you think he has it easier?"

"No. No I don't. I always thought you were the one that had it made."

"You don't think I should have left Mika?"

"You didn't leave her. She left you. I'm not getting involved To-chan, I like you both."

"There isn't any point."

"What?"

"There isn't any point."

"..."

"There isn't any point to any of it Nori-chan. Its all a load of bollocks."

"To-chan, you're scaring me now."

"Sorry. Sorry Nori-chan. Forget I said it."

"No... It's OK."

There was a long pause.

"To-chan where are you?"

"..."

"To-chan?"

"..."

"Moshi moshi... Damn phone company!"

"It's alright. I'm still here."

"People are worried about you. Where are you?"

"It doesn't matter. I'm going now, I've got something I need to do."

"To-chan are you close? I could pop over. We could go to that pool club. Shoot some balls. Talk about the old days."

"It's three thirty in the morning Nori-chan. You've got a husband... and a kid."

"..."

"Noriko-chan do you remember that time with Ryuichi?"

"What?"

"Ryuichi is an idiot."

"What are you...? Tohma Seguichi where the fuck are you?" There was no trace of the gamine sex kitten left in Noriko's voice, she sounded alert, grown up. Noriko the thirty year old woman, the mother of an eight year old daughter, the professional musician at the top of her field. "Tell me immediately, I'm going to trace the call."

"I'm on my mobile, idiot. Goodbye Nori-chan. I love you. I hope you'll always be happy. Jump in the puddles!"

"..."

"To-chan? To-chan are you still there?"

"To-chan?"... "You bastard!"

He poured another measure.

Six years ago... Room 414...


	2. Chapter 2

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Disclaimer: Gravitation belongs to Maki Murakami, the characters story etc. do not belong to me. 

Author's note: I originally rated this story as an M, largely because this chapter contained a graphic description of an overdose. Then I thought about it and did a rewrite. This is the rewritten chapter and it's a little scrappy in places, not unreadably so (I hope), but you can see the bones. I'll probably come back to it at some point.

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Six years ago...  
A different time, a different place. Nittle Grasper had split up. Tohma ran a record label. Noriko was struggling with the twin pulls of being a mother while still trying to have a successful career.  
Testuya was at a conference, Noriko had been laying down keyboard for some band that were only ever going to be a one hit wonder. Saki was being pampered by her grandmother. Tohma had no idea where Mika was. She'd already started playing away. Tohma was spending more and more time at work. It had already gone midnight when Noriko met him outside his office. They went to Henshi's. Tohma remembered the shabbiness of the place. The arcade machines with the almost broken buttons. The under dressed, under aged girls sitting at the bar and looking hopeful.  
Why did they go there? He couldn't remember, but there had been a reason.He couldn't even remember what they talked about. They had drank too much, he knew that. Noriko was giggling like a schoolgirl. They were talking, but they didn't have anything to say to each other anymore. Tohma knew it was only minutes before they ran out of things to talk about.  
Noriko's mobile rang.

Six years ago, before mobiles started to flood the market. You couldn't get coverage for love nor money in some parts of Tokyo. And somehow Noriko managed to get a signal in a basement bar in the slums. The Gods were with them that night.  
Noriko had a "mobile phone voice" in those days. She didn't really believe the things worked. She shouted and bellowed into the handset. Her whole personality changed. There was a bit of grandstanding about that too, of course.

"You did what! Sheesh... I'm gonna bloody kill yah. How many did you take?"

Noriko's language had improved since Saki was born. She'd already started to tone things down before she got married. "Well how many packets is that, stupid? Did you buy them all together at the same time? I don't think you're gonna die then. They don't let you buy enough to die all at the same time, you moron. You want that I should call the ambulance anyway? Well where are you? Don't do anything stupid?"  
When she put the phone down she was visibly shaken.  
Tohma didn't ask. One doesn't.  
Noriko told him anyway.

"That was Ryu-chan. He's at the Plaza, room 414."

He had taken less than a quarter of the lethal dose of paracetamol; it was the mixture of alcohol and a handful of Prozac and Valium which nearly killed him. They hadn't even known he was depressed.

Noriko blamed herself. "I shouldn't have told him that thing about the paracetamol. Do you think that's why he took the other stuff?"

"No," Tohma said firmly. "We don't know what order he took the stuff in. We should have called the ambulance straight off. "

Tohma had learnt how to grease palms by then, he'd learnt who to call, and when to call. How to get into a locked hotel room. Even when the room wasn't under any name he knew. How to cover things up.  
He'd learnt all of that in America the year before. He still hadn't learnt how to not care. He had learnt to be responsible and grown up, how to take care of people. He'd never learnt how to be himself.

It was three weeks before Ryuichi was out of intensive care. Too long to be able to cover things up completely. They'd checked him in under his real name, rather than his stage name, but Tohma and Noriko had brought him in. Ryuichi was barely recognisable at that point. His face seemed to have fallen in on itself. Tohma and Noriko were instantly recognisable. Money shut mouths, but it couldn't stop people talking forever. At the end of the second week Tohma held a press conference.

"Yes, he could confirm that Sakuma Ryuichi was currently in the intensive care unit at the general hospital. He had had an allergic reaction to a common medication. No, it was not believed to be deliberate. No, they could not name the medication for legal reasons. No, he didn't know if Mr. Sakuma had been drinking at the time. Mr. Sakuma was currently in a stable condition. No there was no question that Nittle Grasper had been working on a new project. No Mr. Sakuma had not yet started work on his solo project. No he was not going to answer any questions about NG records. He was not going to answer that question either, he was shocked that it had been asked. He and Noriko-chan wished to send their love and best wishes to Ryuichi-chan and his family at this time. Both of them appreciated the kind messages they had been sent from fans. Obviously this was a difficult time for Mr. Sakuma's family and close friends, they would all appreciate it if the press could give them some space. They would update them if there was any change."

Ryuichi had hardly any family. There was a sister he sometimes mentioned, but they had a different father. Tohma had no idea what her family name could be. He never met her, wasn't sure he could remember what her first name was. He wasn't even sure she lived in Japan.

There are ways and means of tracing someone's background, but it is harder when they know that. Ryuichi's background had always been a liability. Over the years their manager and Ryuichi himself had done a very good job of covering the tracks. Ryuichi had spent his early years in America, and when he came back to Japan his mother had moved constantly. Tohma remembered Ryuichi saying that Tokyo was the first place in Japan that he'd ever lived in long enough to love.

He was seventeen at the time, just after Tohma had first met him. He was sure Ryuichi had still been living at home, but he couldn't remember Ryuichi ever saying much about his home life. He had certainly never met his mother. Ryuichi had definitely moved out by the time he was eighteen. Tohma remembered the place, one room, peeling wallpaper, possible cockroaches. They'd never talked about Ryuichi's life. It was always Tohma who did the talking. Ryu was the first person Tohma had ever felt comfortable talking about his inner most thoughts to. He had talked and talked and talked: about his parents; about school; people he liked; people he didn't like; his dreams; the future.  
He had never had a best friend before.  
He never told his parents about Ryuichi, he knew they wouldn't approve of him. When he started staying out nights they thought he had a girlfriend. His mother teased him about it constantly, but told him he had to call first. His father put his foot down and demanded to meet the girl. There had been such a row about that one.

Tohma at eighteen years old - the first band, the one before Nittle Grasper, with the terrible bassist that Ryuichi almost certainly fancied and the weird lesbian drummer; Ryuichi working in the Noodle bar, missing rehearsals, coming back covered in grease and in a filthy temper; Tohma in music college, new friends, strange working hours, home work, home work, home work (he hadn't expected that for some reason).  
Two years before the weird little girl with pig tails started tagging round with them. Two years before Nittle Grasper.Tohma searched his mind, there wasn't anything helpful.

During the first week it seemed certain that Ryuichi would die.

Tohma knew Ryuichi sent money to his mother. He tried Ryuichi's accountant. The man babbled on about client confidentiality. Tohma pointed out that he was one of the executors of Ryuichi's estate. The accountant pointed out that Ryuichi wasn't dead. Tohma pointed out he wasn't compos mentis.

Ryuichi sent his mother money every month. He had a standing order, unfortunately it was to a numbered international bank account. In his accounts book the transfer was simply listed as Mum.

Tohma drove to Ryuichi's house. He lived just outside Tokyo, he'd moved there a year ago. He had given Tohma a key. This was the first time he had ever used it.

Tohma went through his papers. Ryuichi kept bits of paper – he kept business cards with home phone numbers written on the back, napkins with phone numbers scrawled across them, promotional flyers with phone numbers written on them (Tohma was definitely beginning to spot a recurring theme). He kept notebooks filled with song lyrics and "odd thoughts" scribbled in his unreadable kanji. He kept scrapbooks full of newspaper cuttings about himself and his friends (not all of the cuttings were NG related, there were other bands too). He had an autograph book, half the signatures people Tohma had never heard of. He kept odd things – a backstage pass for a festival that had happened years ago and Ryuichi hadn't gone to; half a deck of cards held together with an elastic band with swear words and rude suggestions written across them; a Go problem clipped from the Tokyo Times (Ryuichi didn't even play Go); a scrap of poetry written in some one else's handwriting with words crossed out.  
A room full of CDs and vinyl. A wall of manga and the children's books Ryuichi collected, most of them American and in English...  
No bills, no letters. Ryuichi didn't seem to keep those. He didn't keep photographs. He didn't appear to have a phone book either. No phone book, no address book. No diary. No copy of his student record, his leaving certificate; no record of his contracts. None of the paraphernalia one keeps – if only because you're not sure what else to do with them, and to remind yourself you exist.

They only allow family members into intensive care. Ryuichi had no family.

Noriko blagged it. She sat with Ryuichi for hours on end, all work canceled, Saki abandoned to Testuya and her nanny. Sometimes Ryuichi was conscious, most of the time he wasn't. He'd had two seizures. The hospital was worried about brain damage.

Tohma threw himself into work. He arranged meetings and conferences, sat in on recordings, did paperwork that his PA usually managed. He argued with the agency that let the building about the state of the facilities; organised a revamp of the lobby; sacked a sound technician who had been selling bootlegs...

Some nights he didn't get leave the building till after midnight. Some nights he didn't sleep at all.

A few days after the press conference Ryuichi's mother turned up in Tohma's office. She was exactly what Tohma had expected, and once she said who she was the likeness was unmistakable. She was blowsy, in her mid forties. She had Ryuichi's love of bright colours and glitz. She didn't have Ryuichi's money or his stylist. She looked cheap, mutton dressed as lamb. She looked exactly like what she almost certainly was. Tohma hated himself for thinking that. Tohma drove her to the hospital, introduced her to Noriko, invited her to stay at his house. She thanked him, but explained she was staying with friends. Tohma was secretly thankful. He hated himself for thinking that as well.

Mika suddenly started being around. Whatever time he returned home she was there. She cooked meals specially to reheat them in the microwave. Mika never cooked, Tohma actually hadn't thought she knew how to. She turned off her rock music – the place sounded funereal. She didn't mention Ryuichi, didn't ask how he was. They had nothing to talk about. She started hugging him when she saw him – Mika was never tactile.

She started sleeping in his bed again, she hadn't done that regularly for nearly a year. She didn't say anything, didn't ask for anything, just held him tightly as if she thought he would disappear.

Ryuichi didn't die, and some how things got back to normal.


	3. Chapter 3

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Disclaimer: Maki Murakami owns Gravitation. not me. Life sucks doesn't it.

* * *

When Ryuichi finally got out of hospital, he checked in to a private "rest home", only the price tag stopped it from being a "loony bin". He was there for three months. No one thought he should be alone when he came out, numerous friends offered to put him up. He wanted to go home; he wanted his music, his books and the garden which had been left to run unkempt since no one had thought about paying the gardener - Ryuichi was pissed off about that one.  
His mother said she would move in with him for a few weeks. Ryuichi gave her a key and she set about airing the house, dusting shelves, and washing linen. _Are you sure about this?_ _Isn't there a reason you haven't spoken to her for over ten years? Wasn't there a reason you moved out? Are you sure you trust her Ryu?_ Of course he didn't say any of that. It was good that Ryuichi had patched things up with his mother.

Tohma picked him up from the rest home.  
"Ah To-chan!" Ryuichi was in one of his exhibitionist moods, "I've missed you so so much!"

He flung his arms around Tohma's shoulders and kissed him squarely on the lips.  
The manager of the home raised an eyebrow.  
Tohma almost felt sorry for Ryuichi, it was a much smaller audience than he liked to play to.  
He disengaged himself from the embrace.

"Everyone has missed you too Ryu-chan," he said. He pointed to the two small suitcases leant against the wall. "Are these your cases? Shall I take them to the car? Are you ready to go?"

Of course Ryuichi wasn't ready to go. He had forms to sign, that he could have signed hours ago; he'd left something in his room; he wanted to take Tohma on a tour of the grounds; wanted Tohma to meet the lovely friends he'd made while he was staying here. He'd done this every time Tohma had visited. Tohma simply didn't have the time, or the patience for it this time.

"Ryu-chan we've a long journey ahead"

It was closer to Ryuichi's house than it was to Tokyo itself, but Ryuichi didn't want to go straight home.

"It wasn't shiny in there. It was quiet, quiet, quiet. I want to see people. Pick up some new music. I've missed out on things being stuck in there, no no da"

Tohma knew for a fact that people had been sending Ryuichi CDs. He had been sent just about every new release from the last three months. He'd been kept up to date on the music magazines as well. Everyone had phoned him and emailed him and kept him up on the gossip. Tohma didn't comment on this.

"I love Tokyo, its so shiny!"

_Last week you said you hated it. Told us all that that's why you moved. You could have stayed in Tokyo. People offered to let you stay with them. _

"Your mother is waiting for you, Ryuichi. She's made you dinner."

"My mother can't cook for shit. I want something that isn't burnt"

"We'll ring your mother and let her know we're going to be later than I said."

"Oh don't worry. She won't care. She's probably drunk already. Stupid tart... She used to be a whore, you know."

"Ryuichi!" Tohma was actually shocked.

"Poop head!" said Ryuichi and elbowed Tohma in the ribs. He put some force behind it and Tohma nearly veered of the road.

Tohma had finally recognised the mood. Noriko called it Ryuichi's "bitch queen act"; Ryuichi (who had an odd turn of phrase at the best of times) called it "being a red elephant" - "sorry I shouted at you Nori-chan, I was being a red elephant last night"; "Ah well I don't think he's talking to me any more, no no da. I was being a Nellie." Tohma thought Noriko's description was better. Whatever you called it, it was a mood Tohma hated.  
Thankfully it was one of Ryuichi's rarer moods, in fact one reason Tohma hadn't recognised it immediately was because it was so out of context. Ryuichi's bitch queen act almost always coincided with big concerts, and really really important performances. Tohma had always thought it was a form of stage fright, rather than simply just one of his mood swings.  
_You're going to have to see her some time Ryuichi, you can't ask the woman to drop everything and move into your house as an unpaid housekeeper for an unspecified length of time, and then turn chicken. You haven't seen her for ten years. She's looking forward to looking after you. Expect many many burnt dinners. And questions you don't want to answer – she is your mother after all._

One thing Tohma was not going to do was let him see her when he was still in this state.  
Ryuichi's bitch queen act had alienated many people over the years, deservedly. He was childish and petulant; he stamped and strutted; demanded the ridiculously impossible and then (if you were stupid enough to do whatever it was he said he wanted) claimed that he had wanted the ludicrously easy instead; he called people names, often with enough truth behind them to be really hurtful; he lost his temper; strutted and stormed. It always ended in tears.

Tohma was certainly not going to set him loose upon a mother he'd barely spoken to for ten years. Tohma was one of the few people who could cope with Ryuichi when he was like this anyway.

"You can come back to mine and I'll cook you dinner"

"Ah Tohma's wonderful stew. I was longing for that in there."

Now the immediate problem had been removed, Ryuichi was prepared to be more conciliatory.

"Missed that?" Tohma said, with a somewhat forced cheerfulness. "I thought the food was excellent in there. Five star menu. Better than either of us eat most days."

"Ah yes, but it isn't the same. You know how it is. It's good to be out of there, Little Cat."

He patted Tohma on the shoulder, his hand slid to Tohma's thigh and rested there hopefully.

_No. No Ryuichi, no more delaying tactics. We go into Tokyo, go shopping, do whatever it is you want to do. Try and get you calmed down. Then I cook you dinner, and then I take you home_

Tohma took a hand off the wheel and calmly removed Ryuichi's hand.

Not a word was said by either of them.

Ryuichi did want to go shopping. He hit a clothes shop and bought several new shirts, tried to buy Tohma a jacket that was far too garish and that he didn't like. He then said he wanted to buy presents for his mother. To say thank you. They hit the department stores and stood in the women's section while Ryuichi chatted up sales girls and glowed in their attention and Tohma grew more and more uncomfortable. Finally Ryuichi insisted on hitting the toy shop. Ryuichi liked toy shops. He spent hours in there, he made the assistants demonstrate almost every gadget in the shop. He ended up buying a robotic dog for Saki which she was far too young to appreciate, although Noriko would probably enjoy playing with it.

By the time he got him back to the apartment, Tohma had had quite enough of Ryuichi for one day. He knew why he'd been acting up, but it didn't make it any better.  
They left the bags in the hall. Went into the kitchen to cook. Tohma put the groceries on the counter.

"This is a good kitchen, no no da."

"Thank you."

"Not as good as the last one."

"Sorry you don't like it."

"Let's not have dinner. Let's visit Nori-chan and give her little girl the dog I bought."

"I've started cooking now."

"I don't want anything to eat. Let's go back out into Toyko."

"I've started cooking."

Ryuichi looked at the pot.

"It looks nasty. Let's go back out. Get food at a restraunt somewhere."

Tohma had had enough.

"Just shut up." he snapped.

Ryuichi crumbled visibly. He looked like he was about to cry.Tohma felt bad immediately.  
_He's only just got out of hospital. Its the first time he's been outside in the real world for over five months. Of course he's playing up. Shit! I'm a bastard._

"Sorry Ryu, it's been a long day for both of us, hasn't it?." Tohma threw his arms round Ryuichi and hugged him. "Come here, you idiot."

Ryuichi rested his head against Tohma's shoulder. He was very still.  
They stood like that for what seemed like hours.

Finally Tohma patted him on the back.

"Come on," he said, "It's going to be Ok."

Ryuichi kissed him. Tohma had been half expecting that.  
Ryuichi liked kissing people, he did it frequently, often out of sheer exuberance. Because he did it a lot he was a good kisser. This was not a good kiss, certainly not by Ryuichi's standards. It lacked his usual confidence and determination.  
_Poor Ryuichi, he never could tell the difference between sex and affection._

Ryuichi stepped back, he ran a hand down Tohma's chest.

"Please," he said.

Tohma didn't say anything.

"You're cross with me, aren't you? Everyone's cross with me. Everything's changing."

"I'm not cross with you. And nothing has changed."

Ryuichi moved forward, kissed him again. This time he was more passionate, more insistent.  
Tohma kised him back, knowing perfectly well that he was standing on the slippery slopes of the mercy fuck.  
Ryuichi ran his hands along Tohma's shoulder blades.  
_Where's Mika? Her car wasn't outside, has she gone out? We're going to have to move this out of the kitchen._  
Ryuichi nipped him on the ear playfully. Tohma found himself responding. _The same old moves. _He moved his head down, kissed Ryuichi on the space where the shoulder met the neck, he was extremely senstitve there.  
_We really have to move this out of the kitchen._

Tohma saw her first. She was wearing her headphones, something Rock n' Loud, he could hear the glare of the bass. She had her back to them, didn't appear to have noticed anything.  
Their marriage was run on giving each other space, not noticing some things, noticing what not to notice, and not ever talking about some things. It was obvious what had been happening, but it didn't need to be blatant. A step forward, pat Ryuichi on the back, move away from the embrace, a comment to Ryuichi, something innocuous. A comment to Mika, to bring her into a conversation. They could play it as him comforting an old friend. _Which was all it was anyway._  
She was moving something on the stove, she still had her back to them, there was still time.  
Ryuichi turned round, saw Mika. He shot her a look of undisguised hatred. He moved back to Tohma, pulled him closer. Tohma stood on his foot heavily, he put all his weight behind it. Ryuichi yelped, but thankfully moved back. Tohma slipped out of the embrace, rearranged his clothing, tucked his top back into his trousers, leant forward against the table.

Mika put the pan under the tap, ran water into it, put it on the washboard, turned round.  
She slipped her headphones round her neck.

"You left the pan on the stove," she said. "It was burning, couldn't you smell it?"

Very casual, very matter of fact, maybe she hadn't noticed. They could get away with it.

"Mika love, didn't hear you come in."

Mika gave him an old fashioned look.

"I've been in all day, my car's in the shop. I told you that. "

"So you did, I forgot."

"Good evening Ryuichi san."

Ryuichi didn't say a thing.

"Good to see you again. I'm glad you're feeling better. Everyone has been missing you."

"That's good no, no, da." Ryuichi was standing far too close.

Ryuichi reached for Tohma's hand. Tohma moved it away.

"I do hope you've been looking after my little cat here, while I was away."

"No, no Ryuichi-san I haven't being doing anything more than I usually do."

"Well I'll see you again some time Mika-san"

"Aren't you staying for dinner?"

Ryuichi ran his hand along Tohma's cheek, "Oh no, I've already had dessert."

"My that _was_ a quick meal," said Mika "You barely had time to swallow."

And if Tohma hadn't been so angry and embarrassed he would almost have applauded her for the speed of that.

Ryuichi didn't say anything at all. He grabbed his jacket and walked out.  
They heard him close the living room door, but they didn't hear the front door slam.

"Mika..."

"He's in the hall."

"Mika listen..."

"He just got let out of the loony bin, didn't he?" Mika said.

"Rest home." Tohma corrected her.

"Whatever!"

"Look Mika..."

"He's left his rabbit, you better go and give it to him before he throws himself under a bus or something"

Tohma picked the rabbit up from the table and glared at it.

"Sometimes I really think I want to burn this thing," he commented.

"Where's he staying?"

"He's going back to his own house. His mother's looking after him for a few weeks."

"That's a long drive."

"Yes."

"Shall I save dinner for you? Or will you be staying the night?"

"Mika. Listen..."

"Just give him the damn rabbit and drive him home before he does something stupid."

She obviously didn't want to talk about it.

Tohma still couldn't find his keys. Could Ryuichi have pocketed the bloody things? In the mood he was in it wasn't unlikely.

"They're on the coffee table in the living room"

"Oh thank you Mika. I was beginning to get worried."

"It's a pleasure. One thing Tohma."

"What?"

"Little cat."

"What?"

"Little cat."

Mika started laughing.

"What? Its not that funny."

"I'm sorry Tohma I just can't see you as Sakuma Ryuichi's 'little kitty cat', that's all."

There were a host of possible responses, few of them were polite. Mika had the moral high ground.

"I don't like the rain." Tohma said coldly, and in partial explanation.

Mika seemed to think this was even funnier.

And that was about the time Mika moved from occasional one night stands to full blown affairs.


	4. Chapter 4

* * *

Disclaimer: I do not own gravitation etc. etc. 

Author's note: some sinister Tohma at last. hehe.

* * *

Four years ago...  
It was Autumn. The weather on the turn. Nittle Grasper had split up. Mika had left. The first time Mika left. Tohma wasn't too bothered. He knew it wasn't going to be permanent. Noriko was right – she always went for bastards. They never talked about the boyfriends, but Tohma knew about them. He knew when she was on the prowl. When she had a bloke lined up: new clothes; almost neurotic attention to make up; half whispered girly conversations with her friends. He knew when she was mid affair: the sudden new interests; a fondness for bands she hadn't previously heard of; books she wouldn't normally read on her bedside table; the gossip of people he'd never heard about before. Post affair: when he'd been a bastard after all and Mika would look sullen for a week, eat ice cream and cry on the phone to her girlfriends.

One time she went away for the weekend - "off to Kyoto". She came back with a bruise across her cheek. She'd covered it with make up, but she kept looking in the mirror and touching it.

"How did that happen?"

"Fell down ice skating Tohma love. Does it look too terrible?"

That's when he knew for certain what had happened. Mika never called him love. She was feeling guilty.

It took him a while to track the bastard down. He'd always been so careful not to know. He'd felt bad about it at first. Then he swallowed the guilt. He went through her things slowly and methodically. She was careful. She was very careful. He'd found her diary almost immediately. She was good at covering her tracks, but she obviously trusted Tohma enough to know he'd never read her diary. He didn't want to read it, he didn't want to know what Mika wrote in there, he didn't want to know what she wrote about him, he just didn't want to know.  
He paid her phone bill every month. The payment itself was a standing order, when the envelopes came in he never even opened them. He left them in the rack for a few days in case there was something Mika needed to check, then put them through the shredder.  
He called the phone company and asked for an itemised bill covering the last six months through to the last call she'd made that morning. It cost him a small fortune. Extra to have it hand delivered to his office.

Then he went through it carefully and with his usual competence. He made a spread sheet. He was looking for a number that Mika had started calling, or started calling more often, about two months ago, probably one that she rang at odd hours. It took him a while, but in the end there was only one real candidate. He called it right away.  
A woman answered.

"Hello?" An upmarket voice, mid twenties, sounded like most of Mika's friends.

Tohma didn't know what to say. He didn't even have The Bastard's name. He paused for a second to gather his thoughts. The pause grew.

"Hello? Hello? I know you're still there. Look I don't know who you are, but can you stop calling me? I'm getting kinda fed up of this. I'm going to report it to the..."

Tohma hung up.

That's when he read Mika's diary. In the end he was glad he had. The man was a total shit. Tohma wished she'd tell him things, he could have sorted some of it out weeks ago. It wasn't the first time he'd hit her either. Tohma's first instinct was to kill him. Then he realised that was a bit of an over reaction, you don't kill your wife's boyfriend even if he deserves it. She still had feelings for the arsehole for some reason. She'd probably get upset. He settled for the next best thing.  
He had the name, he had the number, all it took was pulling in one favour and he had an address. He called in a few other favours in case things went wrong.

He went round there the following evening - according to Mika's diary, The Bastard's wife had a night class.  
The woman was there when arrived, he could see her through the window. He waited for her to leave, he waited and waited. He was about to give up and go home when she finally left. He gave it five minutes than he knocked on the door.  
Tohma knew people who could have dealt with this for him. He didn't call them, this was personal. He wanted to make sure The Bastard got the message, and knew exactly who it was from.

The Bastard was well built, a little taller than Tohma, but not particularly physically fit.  
Tohma had gone to stage school, although the piano had always been his main intersest, he'd also trained as a dancer. Nittle Grasper had split up, but he still went to dance practice three times a week - for the exercise. His legs were pure muscle. He didn't smoke, hardly drank and was in peak physical condition. Mika had obviously also portrayed him as being a bit of a wus. The Bastard obviously wasn't expecting him to be any kind of a threat.

"Hello Mr. Seguichi san."

"Can I come in, please? I would like a word."

"Certainly Mr. Seguichi san." The Bastard smirked.

Tohma had never thought of himself as a violent person, he'd never thought violence solved things. In New York it had passed through his mind that he would have killed Kitazawa if Eiri hadn't already done so, but when it came down to it, he didn't think he could have brought himself to do it. Not in cold blood. He was not a violent person. The thought kept him awake at nights. If Eiri hadn't found that gun, would he - Tohma - have tracked the man down and killed him. It was what he should have done, he knew that, but could he have actually gone through with it? Would he have done the same thing if he had been in Eiri's shoes? He wasn't sure about that either. He didn't think he'd ever have the strength to hurt someone – not physically. It had been worrying him as he drove there in the car. What if he lost his nerve, what if he couldn't go through with it?

Then The Bastard smirked, and that _really_ wasn't an issue anymore.  
Tohma kicked him in the stomach as an opening statement. Then he kicked him in the face.  
The Bastard didn't put up much of a fight, he was too surprised. Then he really didn't get a chance.  
Tohma made plain the penalties of upsetting Mika any further. The penalties of taking things to the papers. Explained exactly what would occur if he told the police who had done this, and exactly how it was going to happen. He explained what he knew, how he knew it, and who else was going to know it too.  
Then he left. He felt he had made his position quite clear.

The Bastard was in hospital for a week. Mika certainly knew about that, but he wasn't sure if she knew why or how. He caught her giving him odd looks a few times, but she never directly mentioned it. Nor of course did he.

Tohma decided he wasn't ever going to go through all that again. He bankrolled a private detective, a nice girl, hard as nails of course, but nice. He'd wanted a woman, didn't want some strange man spying on his wife. The girl hadn't wanted to take the job on at first - said she didn't do maritals. Tohma explained what the problem was; why he wanted the information, and she had relented. Paying her three times her normal fee probably helped as well. She was good at what she did - worth the money. Anytime Mika looked like she was going to stray, he got sent a detailed dossier on the man and his background. Tohma never actually read the reports. He didn't want to know, and it seemed too much like prying. He gave them to his PA, she read them for him - just to check Mika wasn't seeing any arseholes, and to plug any potential media leaks. Hiromi didn't like reading them at first, then it merely became routine. She'd flagged a few that were potentially problematic – one journalist, who was almost certainly playing Mika for a story (he'd lied about his age and background), and a guy with a history of mistreating women. Tohma had dealt with those, but far less directly than he had the first time. He just didn't want to be involved.

Four years ago...  
Mika had been gone for eight days so far. She'd had the decency to tell him why. Tohma had half been expecting it, she'd been seeing this one for over six months. As Mika had told him about the guy, Tohma felt less bad about reading his dossier. She'd given him all the details he would have needed to compile the report without having her followed. That made it seem better somehow. Though it was twisted logic. This one seemed quite nice – wasn't married for a change (not currently anyway), wrote children's books (she'd met him through Eiri - of all people), smoked, but didn't drink, was relatively successful. Tohma almost hoped things would work out for her.

"Yet another bastard," said Hiromi.

"He seems quite nice?"

"Nah. He's just got divorced. He's hung up on his ex-wife and he doesn't want any kind of long term commitment. He'll be having the screaming heebie-jeebies now Uesuigi-san has moved in on him. He's easily bullied, which is why he didn't stop her, but he'll start resenting it soon."

"Really? Why do you think that?"

"It's in the file."

Tohma read that damn file six times over, and he still couldn't see it.

Mika hadn't really taken much of her stuff with her. Most of her clothes were still in her wardrobe, she'd left her books, most of her CDs.

"I'll come back for them Tohma. As soon as I've got things settled, really I will. Sorry, I'm not being a bit more organised"

"Mika take as long as you need."

He helped her take her suitcases to her car.  
Then there an uncomfortable silence.  
She was leaving, and neither of them had a clue what to say.  
He knew what he should have said. Knew what he wanted to say. Tohma was really very bad with words. He'd always expressed what he really meant through his music. Sometimes when he was a kid, he'd find himself bursting with ideas, so many things he wanted to say that they'd all rush out of his mouth at once and trip him up. He'd end up saying something he didn't mean at all, because he couldn't say all those words all at once. You could say the words all at once with music, Tohma had realised that as he got older. As he grew older he tried to say the "all at once" things less and less. It was easier that way. He planned the important words before hand, rehearsed them in his head, and then he said them. He'd been trying to think of the important words all afternoon as he helped Mika pack. They hadn't materialised.  
There wasn't any point anyway. Mika was going to leave regardless. All asking her to stay was going to do was make him look needy, and Mika feel bad. It was better this way.  
She suddenly threw her arms round him. There was an uncomfortable kiss.  
_Ask her to stay, see what happens._ But the words didn't come out, like that.

"Mika love, if it doesn't work out you don't have to stay with him. You don't have to worry about having a place to live. You know you can come back here. Don't you?"

She looked boiled. Would she have preferred it if he'd pulled the jealous husband act? _Would_ she have stayed?

Eight days later and he was sitting in an empty house, listening to a clock. It was the first day he'd taken off since she'd left. It was the first time that he'd really noticed that she wasn't there. A lot of her stuff was still lying round: a book left on the coffee table (one of her brother's with a rude haiku and his trademark squiggle signature across the dust jacket – he always did that when he gave Mika a copy of one of his books. Tohma had no idea why, he'd asked Mika once and she'd just laughed and told him it was a private joke. Knowing Eiri it was something complicated, nasty and rather cynical); the expensive earphones for her disc man (which she'd obviously forgotten); a small pile of orphaned CDs (Tohma always put them back in their cases, Mika never did); one of her earrings beside the phone (she often took her left earring out when she was talking on the phone for any length of time); a box of Tampax in the bathroom; chocolate ice cream he didn't like and wouldn't eat in the freezer. Eight days and he missed the bitch already. He'd grown accustomed to her face.

He looked out of the window and watched the rain fall.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: the usual I don't own gravitation, this story is based on characters by Maki Murakami.

Author's note: this chapter keeps changing because I managed to seperate a couple of paragraphs and then I bunched them when I tried to correct it, and _then_ I managed to detete one of the paragraphs altogether and the whole thing didn't make any sense. I should learn to leave well enough alone, I really should. The next chapter says it's chapter nine when it should be chapter six - it _is_ chapter six but I made a mistake when uploading it. um... I'm completely neurotic, sorry.

* * *

It was raining on him. Tohma had always hated the rain. He hated his hair getting wet.

"I hate the rain!"

"You're like a cat," Ryuichi said, "a little kitty cat."

Tohma was pinned against the wall of the shower.

"Ryuichi."

Tohma pulled him closer

"Ryuichi..."

"It's alright Little Cat. I know already."

Ryuichi's cheeks tasted salty.

Ryuichi cried when he was sad, which wasn't often, but when something made it through the armor, he cried. He cried over good music, sad films, sad things.  
Tohma never cried, not since he was a child, and not much then either. He'd always been the stoical little boy in the playground. He hadn't cried when Ayato-kun pushed him from the tree and he broke his leg, when his mother died, when Mika left...

Sometimes Tohma was jealous of the way Ryuichi wasn't ashamed of his emotions. The way he didn't care what other people thought.

"Why are you crying?" he said.

Ryuichi muttered something. Tohma couldn't hear him.

"What are you saying?"

He still couldn't hear him, he was so far away.

_This isn't right. This isn't the way it happened._

Four years ago...

Tohma had never liked mornings. He'd never been good at them. Mika had to wake him at least once a week.

The alarm buzzed insistently. Tohma reached for the off switch. The LED flashed, eight O'clock in the morning. He'd forgotten to turn it off. He curled back into the blankets. He couldn't get back to sleep. Eight thirty in the morning on his day off and he was awake and up, eating miso soup and reading junkmail.

At nine thirty he was sitting in his studio at the back of the house repetitively playing the opening bars of Fur Elise (the musician's equivalent of "the quick brown fox" he and Eiri had once decided).

At ten thirty he started looking for the cases for the CDs Mika had left stacked beside the CD player.

At half eleven he had decided there was nothing on TV worth watching.

Mika had been gone for nearly three weeks. The house was like a mausoleum.

At noon the phone rang.

"Eh To-chan. I rang your office and they said you were off today. I didn't wake you up did I?" It was Ryuichi.

"No. I've been up since eight."

"Eight O'clock! In the morning?"

"Yes."

"That's very strange. Are you feeling well? Do you have a stomach ache?"

That was a very old and very private joke.

Tohma laughed.

"What are you up to today, To-chan?"

"Nothing much."

"Let's go and look at the leaves in Rikugien."

"Since _when_ have you been interested in the leaves in Rikugien?"

"Since..." Ryuichi started to say something, then changed his mind. "A friend of mine went there a few days ago, he told me they're especially good this year. Come on To-chan. I'll bring lunch."

Tohma thought about it. It wasn't as if he'd got plans for the day.

"Alright."

"How long will it take you to get ready?"

"Not long."

"I'll meet you at the gate in about forty five minutes."

"It'll take me a bit longer than that."

"An hour then."

Ryuichi never made much effort to change his appearance when he went out. In many ways he didn't need to, his stage persona was so divergent from his private face: he spoke differently; dressed in a different style; he even moved slightly differently. The changes were subtle, but taken accumulatively they made an enormous difference. He still looked like _the_ Sakuma Ryuichi of course, but the appearance was more familial than anything else; a relative - maybe a cousin or a brother.

Tohma had been there when (at the height of Nittle Grasper's fame) Ryuichi had walked past his own picture blown up to epic proportions on a subway billboard and stopped at a vending machine only to be accosted by a drunk.  
The drunk had pulled his arm, and Ryuichi had turned round. Ryuichi was in one of his more ebullient moods and something about the tramp had obviously pleased him, he hugged her joyfully.  
The drunk stared at him uncertainly. "Has anyone told you look just like Sakuma Ryuichi," she said before she wandered off.

The trick had not worked today, and Ryuichi had been captured by two very excited schoolgirls. He had his arm round one and was being photographed by the other when Tohma arrived. Tohma stood back, not wanting to get pounced on as well.

"Now me, now me," the girl with the camera said. She gave the camera to her friend and traded places, Ryuichi obligingly put his arm round her and gave a smile. The camera flashed. Ryuichi started to move his arm.

"Oh Ryuichi-sama sorry I'm not as good a photographer as Kumi-chan, can I try again?"

Both of the girls giggled. Tohma bet the camera worked the first time. This suspicion was enhanced when the girl snuggled far closer into Ryuichi's shoulder than was either necessary and polite. Both girls giggled loudly.

These girls were rabid. Tohma wondered how long Ryuichi had been stuck with them.

Ryuichi noticed Tohma, he waited till he was sure he'd caught his eye and winked at him.

Then he looked at his watch.

"Its got so late," he announced loudly. "Doesn't time fly when you're having fun."

"Oh do you have to go so soon Ryuichi-sama?"

"Don't go Ryuichi-sama."

"I'm meeting a girlfriend in the park, don't want to be late for her. She's a very pretty lady."

"Ryuichi-sama has a girlfriend?"

"Ryuichi has lots of girlfriends," Ryuichi said, "But this one is the bestest of them all."

He gave them both a wave and walked off to the gate, paid the entrance fee and went in.

Tohma gave it a minute or two until the girls finally stopped squealing and walked off.

Ryuichi was waiting on the other side of the turnstile.

"What was _that_ all about?"

"Oh you know what fans are like."

"No I meant what you said at the end."

"Oh you know, you've got Mika-san. I'm the oldest boy scout in Japan."

"You should be glad we're playing it that way," Tohma pointed out.

"Yeah well." Ryuichi shrugged, he didn't sound convinced.

"How are you anyway To-chan? I haven't seen you for _months_."

This was true, and for once, wasn't one of Ryuichi's exaggerations. Ryuichi had come off tour and gone straight on to the States to visit his sister who'd just had a baby.

"How was LA?"

"Oh you know what it's like To-chan – shiny, expensive, fun, interesting, _too big_. It's good to be back in Japan, no no da? It's _good_ to be back."

Tohma laughed. "What's brought this on? I thought you loved America?

"Oh yeah, but you know it's just not the same as home. You know what its like?"

He flung his arms round Tohma, "I've _missed_ here."

"Missed you too, Ryu. I've really missed you."

Ryuichi moved his head back and stared at Tohma, there was something slightly shifty about his expression.

"Yeah," he said finally. "You know how it is. Let's walk. Aren't the leaves beautiful?"

"When did you start being interested in leaves, Ryu?"

"Since Fall in LA was grey, To-chan. Old, rainy, grey; grey and nasty. You can taste the grey in the air To-chan. In LA there's nothing but grey."

"Well you're back home now."

"Yeah." Ryuichi didn't sound too certain. "How's Nori-chan?"

"Haven't you spoken to her recently?"

"No. Every time I ring, it isn't a good time. It's weird isn't it?"

"What's weird?"

"Nori-chan. Remember what she used to be like. Remember how much fun she used to be."

"She's still fun."

"Not like she used to be. She's all grown up now. It's scarey, you know. When do you think it happened?"

"I think it happened to all of us Ryu, without us noticing."

"But it was so sudden with her, you know. I mean you've always been grown up, you just got older, and everything just fell into place the way it's supposed to and everything, but Nori-chan? That just happened over night. You know one day she was having fun, and living it up, and the next day she was all grown up with a husband and a baby, and everything just changed. Like that you know, it just changed. One day she had pig tails and was talking about going back to school, and the next day she was a wife and a mother, and making out that was what she always wanted. Do you think she's happy like that? I mean really?"

"Yes, Ryu. I think she is."

"Yeah. She seems happy." Ryuichi kicked at a stone vindictively, "it's never going to happen to me. Not ever."

Tohma put his arm around Ryuichi's shoulders and hugged him. "It will sometime, you know that."

"No, it won't." Ryuichi moved Tohma's arm from his shoulder. "It _won't _ happen. I don't want it to happen, everything keeps on changing, you know. All the time. Things change you know, they change, they change all the time. Why can't things stop for a moment? What happened to live fast die young? It's not like I don't live the lifestyle, you know."

Tohma tried to change the mood. "That only works if you're in a rock band, and we write cheesy pop."

"Yeah. You're right." Ryuichi smiled wryly, "there's nothing tragic about 'Hey, hey, everything's shiny; I can't ever be as glamorously happy as I am at this moment; beautiful lady will you have my baby?' "

It sounded like a quote, or maybe a series of quotes, but they certainly weren't by Sakuma & Seguichi, Tohma was sure of that; there was also a faint trace of the autobiographical to the line.

"Did you actually say that to someone?"

"No, of course not. That's more your thing isn't it To-chan? How _is _she by the way?"

And that was the time to tell him what had happened, but Tohma didn't want to. Ryuichi had never understood about Mika.

Never would understand about Mika. He'd either be smug and say 'told you so'; or he'd try and be sympathetic, and fail miserably. He'd never liked Mika, and sometimes Tohma wasn't even sure if he did either.

"Come on Ryu, what's wrong?"

"_Nothings_ wrong," Ryuichi shouted. "There is nothing wrong, you know. In fact." He gave a big smile, "Everything's right for a change. I think. Maybe, anyway. Sometimes you just don't know, no no da?"

"Yeah. I know that feeling." Tohma agreed.

"Yeah well you know, it's that feeling. How's the label coming on?"

"Not doing so badly, I've signed up a new band, they're going to be huge."

"As big as Nittle Grasper?"

"Of course not. We were special."

"Yeah we were, weren't we?"

And that was that, subject changed, without anything having been discussed.

Despite this somewhat rocky start, they had a good afternoon.


	6. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: I don't own Gravitation, this is a piece of fanfiction.

* * *

The leaves _were_ good in Rikugien that fall, and the weather was spectacular, the crispness of an unhurried autumn taking its time to reach the winter. The air crackled and sang, everything seemed slightly unreal like cardboard cutouts outlined against the sky.

"I should paint this," Ryuichi commented suddenly.

"I can't see you as a painter."

"No? I'm a good artist, no no da? I showed one of my drawings to someone in LA, he said I showed promise."

The injured way Ryuichi said this made Tohma laugh. Ryuichi didn't say anything at all, and Tohma glanced at him worried he'd hurt his feelings, but Ryuichi was smiling - for someone who lived on an emotional roller coaster he'd always been remarkably difficult to offend.

"You'll never believe who I met in LA To-chan"

"Who?"

Ryuichi embarked on a long and possibly slanderous story about an American singer Tohma had long admired. This prompted Tohma into relating the details of a highly irritating encounter with a record executive who had, many years ago, sneered at an early Nittle Grasper demo, but was now looking for a job at NG records. Tohma had borne very few grudges about the rejection of the demo, but it had been very much on the other man's mind and he had tied himself up in knots trying not to mention it.

"Nori-chan cut his photo from a magazine and put it on a dartboard." Ryuichi said when the story finally wound its way to its highly socially embarrassing conclusion.

"Well yes, but I'd actually forgotten that. Anyway it wasn't Nori-chan, it was Roji-chan."

"Was it? What's he doing these days anyway?"

And that got them talking about people they hadn't seen for years, talking about incidents that had happened years before, reminding each other of old jokes that had been told so often that only the punchlines were needed to make them laugh. They talked of bands they had liked, bands they hadn't liked, bands they'd recently heard and thought they would like to hear more of. It was like slipping back in time, back to their teens when everything had been far simpler and much less complicated.

_I don't want to grow up anymore than Ryu does _Tohma thought as they sampled Ryuichi's shop bought Bento in a pavilion by the water, and Ryuichi performed the Johnny Popeye trick with a quail's egg – a piece of physical comedy which was as hilarious at nearly thirty as it had been when he'd first performed it at seventeen.

They walked down the water's edge, Ryuichi picked up a few stones and started skimming them across the water. It was a neat trick and one that Ryuichi was extremely good at, his stones seemed to bounce across the lake, skipping across the surface of the water three or four times before succumbing to the inevitable and sinking to the bottom without a trace. Ryuichi had tried to teach Tohma the trick on several occasions, but it was one he had never quite mastered.

"It's easy no, no da," Ryuichi informed him, "It's all from the wrist To-chan, like giving a handjob."

Tohma feigned shock and mild disgust. Carried away by the childish mood of the afternoon, he punched Ryuichi lightly on the shoulder. Ryuichi had never taken physical violence against his person well (although he had never had any problems dealing it out to other people). He shoved Tohma with some force and Tohma lost his footing on the slippery stones, being lithe and agile he was able to prevent a serious fall, but still ended sitting in the water.  
It was only a few inches of water, but it was freezing cold.  
Predictably Ryuichi thought the whole thing was hilarious.  
Tohma crossed his arms, bit his lip to stop the shivering and waited for Ryuichi to stop roaring with laughter.

"Are you alright?" Ryuichi asked finally.

"Yes," Tohma responded with as much dignity as he could muster, "perhaps you could help me out."

"Don't splash me, no, no da,"

"I won't splash you."

Ryuichi walked cautiously to the water's edge. Tohma lifted his hand and splashed him copiously.

Ryuichi jumped back quickly "Help yourself out, To-chan, I don't want a cold on the chest, not when I'm starting a new song."

Tohma half stood up, with the admittedly childish intention of increasing the splash radius to include Ryuichi. He stepped back and having missed the fact that there was a sharp shelf behind him, lost his footing and sat down again heavily, winding himself. Ryuichi grinned.

"Oh come on, Ryu give me a hand." Tohma said crossily.

"You're going to pull me in, no, no da,"

Tohma thought about it. "Yes," he admitted honestly.

"No," said Ryuichi and shook his head.

"Oh come on."

"No." Ryuichi sat down on a large stone and pulled a stick of pocky out of his jacket pocket. "Help yourself out. I didn't think that big shot business men usually sat in lakes," he added, conversationally.

Tohma muttered something quite unrepeatable, but made no attempts to stand up.

Since both Tohma and Ryuichi were extremely stubborn, they might have remained in this impasse for some time. Luckily they were interrupted by a passerby – a fat jolly woman in late middle age.  
She looked at Tohma curiously and then at Ryuichi who was calmly eating pocky and staring at the lake as if Tohma was some form of performance art produced for his personal viewing pleasure.

"Is your friend alright?"

Ryuichi nodded, "he's fine." he said.

"He must be cold."

"Nah, he's used to it. He does this all the time," Ryuichi confided.

Tohma caught this remark and glared at Ryuichi fiercely.

"It's a meditation technique," Ryuichi added, "it's all the rage at the minute. My friend is a master of the art."

Tohma's expression was priceless. "He plans to sit in every lake and pond in Japan, you know" Ryuichi was enjoying himself and getting thoroughly carried away. "He's sat in Biwa, and the Shimona, and all if the five lakes. It's like a compulsion with him now. If there's water he just has to sit in it. He sat in my fishpond last night and frightened the carp. So I told him 'you can't sit there again, those fish are priceless, no no da. Come down to Rikugien Park,' I said, 'they've got water there, and you can look at the trees.' So here we are."

The woman looked at Tohma thoughtfully.

"He looks cold," she said.

"He won't be there much longer," Ryuichi said, "he never sits in any of them very long. Twenty-three different watering holes he's been in this month, 'you've got to pace yourself,' I tell him, 'it's the quality of the experience that counts, not the quantity of the ponds.' But you don't know what he's like once he's got an idea in his head."

Tohma could quite happily have killed him by this point.

"You know what it's like, no, no da."

The woman studied his face intently.

"You're that singer," she said suddenly.

Ryuichi stared at her blankly, he'd been enjoying himself hugely and had got so carried away that he'd put himself quite firmly into character, he was quite prepared to be an overly chatty and slightly camp fishpond owner with eccentric friends for the remainder of the afternoon.

"You know, from that band – you did that song Sleepless Beauty."

Ryuichi came back down to Earth sharply. "yes," he said.

"He's familiar too," the woman pointed at Tohma, "he's in the band as well isn't he?"

"yes," Ryuichi agreed meekly.

"You're _pop-stars_," said the woman, in a voice that seemed to suggest that this job description explained everything – including the sight of of a naturally blond haired Japanese gentleman wearing a frock coat and a bowler hat sitting in a lake. "My brother's a guitarist," she confided "he's in a band called 'Tenchi Tokyo', you won't have heard of them," she added.

Ryuichi shook his head in agreement, and thought better of it, politeness suggesting a different response. "I think..."

"you _won't_ have heard of them," the woman repeated firmly, "it's not that they're bad. I mean they're not my cup of tea, but they're not _bad_. They just don't publicise themselves enough, and they don't have the looks. You don't get any where in the industry if you haven't got the looks. You've got the looks, I'll give you that." She added.

Ryuichi stared at her, appalled by this onslaught.

The woman opened her handbag and rummaged for a pen and a piece of paper.

"I suppose I ought to ask you for your autograph," she said, "it's not for me, it's for my nephew."

Tohma bit his lip to stop laughing. He knew he probably ought to rescue Ryuichi, but this seemed like suitable payback.

"Oh, it's good to have a fan," Ryuichi said, without any obvious irony, "who do I make it out to?"

"To my nephew," said the woman, "I already said. He works at that new bar in the city centre. You've probably heard of it – all the stars drink there."

"Oh I won't have heard of it," Ryuichi said disarmingly, "I don't drink, you know. Now _what_ is ..."

"You are a sensible boy," said the woman, "most of these pop-stars do nothing but drink and take drugs."

For some reason this thought lead her into a series of amnidiversions on the subject of the music industry. These included the possibility that that all the charts were fixed – according to her brother at least, though he was an idiot, and Ryuichi wasn't to take offense at that; the possibility that you couldn't get anywhere in the music business without being gay although of course, she added, Ryuichi wasn't to take offense to that remark either; and that everyone knew that all these pop-stars were terrifically overpaid – but then being a singer was probably like being an athlete, you didn't really have a career once you hit thirty, so it was probably fair that they all received plenty of money young to give them money to invest for the future; and what was Ryuichi doing now Nittle Grasper had split up? Was he thinking of starting a business? – she knew lots of them did. She seemed surprised to discover that Ryuichi still believed he had a career as a singer.

Tohma was shivering with cold. He was also starting to feel almost as sorry for Ryuichi as he was for himself. He was considering getting out of the lake and rescuing him, when the woman's mobile rang.  
She answered it, and turned to Ryuichi.

"That's my husband on the phone," she informed him, "wondering where I am. You know what men are like, can't do anything on their own. Are you married?"

"No," said Ryuichi, thoroughly de-moralised and reduced to mono-syllabic replies.

"Have you got a girlfriend?"

"Not at the moment," Ryuichi replied numbly.

"That's a great shame, a pretty boy like you. You need to settle down, there's no point leaving it too late. My niece is single at the moment, she's a lovely girl, works in..."

A sudden squawk from her mobile phone interrupted this remark, so Ryuichi was spared the continuation of the comment.  
The woman muttered something to her husband and this time remembered to end the call.

"Well I've got to go," she said. "Wasn't it lucky that we met today, my nephew will be so jealous when he hears. Ah so, I must go now, you've kept me jabbering here for ages. Your friend's been in that lake a long time now, he looks blue. It's strange the things people do, isn't it? Well I better say my goodbyes."

"You can come out now" Ryuichi shouted to Tohma, largely for the fat woman's benefit, "your fifteen minutes are up."

Tohma accepted defeat and got out of the lake.

"What a frightful woman," Ryuichi said, when she had safely gone round the bend in the path, "silly bloody cow. Did you _hear_ her. Stupid fat slug. I hope she gets _gonorrhea_ and dies. That hag!"

The woman had riled him badly, Ryuichi could often be extremely rude to people, but he was seldom nasty about them behind their backs. He had also always had a high tolerance level for fans. Much higher than Tohma, who tended to become formal and off-putting when confronted with gabby strangers.

"Oh come on Ryu, ignore it," Tohma said through chattering teeth, "you know what people can be like."

"Yeah." Ryuichi shrugged, he stared back along the path morosely. He suddenly brightened. "It's good people still remember me, no no da?"

"Course people still remember you, Ryu, you're a success in your own right."

"yeah well, you know I think people liked me better when you two were still around."

Tohma suddenly realised how cold he was. He had become acclimatised to the water, but now that he was on the footpath and moving around the cold hit him forcibly.

"Now... th...th...that's not t...t...t...rue," he said. He couldn't stop shivering.

Ryuichi looked at him concerned.

"You're freezing," he said.

"I'm fine."

"You're not fine, you're shivering. We need to get a hot drink into you, no, no da? Get you warmed up. To-chan, you're blue with cold."

"You sound like my wife." Tohma complained, so cold that he was speaking on automatic pilot.

"I _do_?" Ryuichi was struck by this, "Mika-san doesn't give a shit though," he added.

There were a number of things Tohma could have said to this, but he was too cold to think straight, and not in the mood for a conversation that could easily have turned into a row.  
He patted Ryuichi on the shoulder companionably; since he was still soaking wet this left a huge wet patch across his shoulder blades.

"Splashed you after all," he said gleefully.

" Eh, To-chan?" Ryuichi slung his arms around him. "You can't go home like this. Mika-san'll think I don't look after you properly. Come round mine and have a hot shower. _I'll_ get you warmed up."

"Sure."

It had been a forgone conclusion even before the handy excuse of the lake.


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I don't own Gravitation etc. This story is based on characters by Maki Murakami.

Authors note: this chapter contains a very mild description of sexual activity. if you are not keen on boy/boy action don't read it. Mind you if you're not keen on that sort of thing you probably wouldn't be a Gravitation fan in the first place.

* * *

Tohma was pinned against the wall of the shower. 

"Ryuichi."

Tohma pulled him closer

"Ryu..."

"It's alright Little Cat. I know already." Ryuichi laughed. "We're going to have to get out of this shower before one of us slips and breaks a neck."

They lay together in the afterglow, Tohma's head resting on Ryuichi's chest. Ryuichi's arm wrapped around his shoulders.

Tohma ran his hand down Ryu's chest idly.

"We should do this more often"

"Certainly, no no da."

"We should do this all the time."

Ryuichi laughed, one of his grown up laughs, rather than the childish giggle which often infuriated Tohma.

"Naughty Little Cat" he said. He pulled Tohma closer and kissed him on the top of his head. "We couldn't do this _all_ the time, it would be too sore."

Tohma kissed him on the breast bone and half sat up.

"Not just sex, stupid."

He ran his fingers through the chest hair Ryuichi hadn't bothered to shave. Ran his hand over the muscle of his stomach, moving his fingers down to the more sensitive area just below his navel.

Ryuichi leant back against the pillows and put his hands behind his head. He looked at Tohma curiously.

"You're very eager today. Don't you think its a little too soon?"

Tohma moved his hands down further, kneading and probing.

"How much are you paying for this place?"

"Too much, little cat. And you've definitely hit a sensitive spot by the way."

"Mmm." Tohma kissed the sensitive spot.

Moved down to kiss another sensitive spot. Ryuichi was beginning to harden, it wasn't too soon after all.

"You've still got the other house. The one in the country. That must be costing you a fortune."

"That's all paid for. I bought it outright. Please don't stop what you're doing. It's very odd, but it's working"

Tohma continued as instructed.

"You've still got the upkeep. You could move in with me, and we could split costs."

Ryuichi sounded amused.

"And what about Mika-san?"

"She's left."

Ryuichi removed Tohma's hand and sat up.

Tohma snuggled into him, and ran his hand across his chest again.

"Ryu?"

"No." Ryuichi moved and swung his legs over the edge of the bed.

He fiddled with something on the bedside table, moved the condom packet and the lube, turned the clock face up, found his gum. It seemed to take him forever to get into the packet.

Tohma knew a delaying tactic when he saw one.

"Ryu?"

Ryuichi finally got into the box. He shook out a piece, chucked the box to Tohma and stood up.

"I thought you'd be pleased. You've never liked her."

Ryuichi reached for his dressing gown and put it on.

"I loathe her," he said simply, "but she's good for you."

He fumbled with the cord.

"Why'd she leave?"

"She's got a boyfriend."

"That's hardly new."

"She's moved in with this one."

Ryuichi finally tied the cord. He moved to the stereo and started thumbing through the CDs.

More delaying tactics.

"Ryuichi?"

Ryuichi turned to face him. He was holding a brightly coloured CD case.

"I'm moving to America," he said, "I've got a three album contract and a new manager."

"What? When?"

"End of next week, the one after. The rent on this place runs out at the end of the month."

"When were you going to tell me?"

"Today."

"You're still under contract to NG."

"Not after the end of the month."

That was true, Tohma had forgotten, he'd seen the memo, he was going to arrange the meeting. He'd just assumed Ryuichi would want to carry on. They were friends, it was a friendly agreement.

"It hasn't really worked out, being a solo act here in Japan. People want Nittle Grasper, not Ryuichi."

"You didn't do anything for over a year, it's been difficult relaunching you."

"Yeah well." Ryuichi shrugged. "We all want to break the states, this is as good a time for me as any. I'm only half Japanese you know, that's not good here, but it's good over there."

"Ryu, with the timings I can do you for breach of contract."

"Yeah, you won't. I'm not making you enough money for it to be worth the bad publicity."

This was quite true.

"Money and publicity always count with you Little Cat, you know that. I'm looking forward to it. I'm going to live in Los Angeles, near my sister. It's good seeing her again, no no da"

"If you weren't going to America, would you have moved in with me?"

Ryuichi had the decency to at least look as if he was giving it some thought.

"No," he said finally, "I like living on my own."

"Ryuichi?"

"What?"

"Don't you sometimes wish we'd done things differently?"

Ryuichi looked startled. "Done what differently?"

"This." Tohma waved his hand. "Don't you sometimes wonder what it would have been like if we had done this properly? Had a proper relationship, been faithful, Chocolates on White Day, Christmas Eve in a love motel, anniversaries, holidays, forward planning."

Kumagoro was lying face down on the dresser. Ryuichi picked the stuffed toy up and stared at it. He was silent for a long long time.

"You know when you feel for some one, and when you hurt they hurt," he said finally. " When they're happy you're happy. You would do anything in the world for that person, because if you don't you break. You know that feeling, no no da?"

Tohma thought about it.

"Yes..." he said uncertaintly.

"Well I don't feel like that about you. I don't want to feel like that about anyone. I'm fond of you, I like you, we're good friends. I don't want to have to care about you."

Tohma got off the bed, found his clothes and went home.

Neither of them said a word. It was the last time they spoke to each other for over a year.


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: Gravitation belongs to Maki Murakami not me, I'm just playing about in her sandbox.

* * *

It was raining. It was still raining.

"Why is it raining indoors?" Tohma asked.

He could still taste salt.

"Ryuichi?"

Ryuichi was still trying to tell him something.

Ryuichi slapped him across the face.

The first time Mika left, she came back. She came back in the Spring. It started with phone calls, often at odd hours.

"Hi yah!"

"Hello Mika."

"Haven't spoken to you for ages, thought I'd see how you were doing."

"I'm fine."

"Good. We should talk more, just 'cos I've moved out doesn't mean we should stop being friends."

"No."

"How's work?"

"Busy. I'm putting together a new act."

"Any good?"

"Teenage girls will love them."

"Go those teenage girls! How's Ryuichi-san liking America?"

"I don't know. I haven't spoken to him since the week before he left."

"Oh. Well he half grew up there, didn't he? He'll be fine."

"How's Tanaka-san?"

"Busy! He's in the middle of a new book. He's so _boring_ about it. He works nine to five hours." Mika sounded aggrieved, "he gets up at _eight,_ has breakfast and locks himself in his study for the next eight hours. How _can_ you be a writer and work nine to five hours? Eiri doesn't."

"Your brother works very anti-social hours, Mika."

"Yes, but he's fun about it."

"Isn't Tanaka-san fun?"

"No. Oh, I mean yes. Oh, I don't know. It's just that if he works nine to five hours he might as well leave the house to do it. He's around _all_ the time."

Tohma chuckled at the somewhat muddled sentiment.

A door slammed in the background on Mika's end of the phone.

"Shit. Look I've got to go. Call me! We should talk more"

"Call me... We should talk more."

"To-chan I can't hear you. What are you trying to say? You're not making sense. To-chan, can you hear me? Please wake up."

Tohma woke abruptly from a complicated and disquieting dream with the vague feeling that something was wrong. He stared at the ceiling, and listened to the quiet snores emitting from the duvet-stealing cocoon next to him. The green light on the bedside clock flashed six thirty. The phone rang again. Tohma reached for the handset.

"Hello," he said groggily.

"I didn't wake you up did I?" Mika sounded obscenely peppy and completely wired

"It's a little early."

The cocoon unwound to reveal a mop of badly dyed purple hair and a pair of eyes which even in the dim dawn light seemed blood shot.

"Wazzit? No class today," the lad said incoherently.

Tohma motioned him to be quiet.

"What was that?"

"Nothing."

"I heard a voice. Tohma, did I call you at a bad time?"

Tohma was still collecting his thoughts. Last night (or more properly, this morning), was beginning to come back to him... There had been a party... the wrap party for The Anger tour... it had been a dreary affair, but Tohma had gone to show willing. The kid was a trainee technician. _A trainee technician? Shit... How old was he?_

"I should call you back," Mika sounded embarrassed.

"No."

He had only meant to pop in for an hour, do the boss thing, congratulate everyone heartily and leave. He'd been chatting to some of the members of the road crew, and when he'd moved away from them the kid had somehow attached himself to him, and they'd got chatting. He'd reminded him strongly of Ryuichi, and it wasn't just his looks – it was his enthusiasm, and his attitude towards life in general. The kid had got him talking, really talking, it was almost as if they had known each other for years. When Tohma had decided it was time to leave, he'd met the kid outside at the taxi rank. The kid didn't have much money so Tohma had suggested he share his taxi, and then they had both ended up going back to Tohma's house... And then Tohma had realised that he hadn't got a clue what to do next. He'd never actually picked anybody up before... They'd ended up polishing off a bottle of whiskey that Mika had left and talking about life. Tohma had talked about Mika, and the kid had talked about his ex-boyfriend, and they'd both ended up maudlin and feeling very sorry for themselves. Tohma had gone upstairs to change the sheets in the spare room, the kid had followed him, curled up in his bed and passed out. It was all relatively innocent in the end, but Mika would never have believed that.

"I mean if there _is _someone with you, it would be fine. I've moved out, remember. I've got a boyfriend."

"Mika, what's up?"

"Oh, it's just..." Mika hesitated. A door slammed in the background. "Fuck!" There was a cluttering sound as Mika put her hand over the receiver. Tohma could still catch bits of her conversation with the person in the background. "Oh nothing important sweetheart, just an old friend of mine... A girlfriend... She lives in America... Don't be silly... No it's on her bill."

Tohma swung his legs against the side of the bed, and wondered if he should put the phone down.

The kid had obviously given up on sleep, he sat up and rubbed his eyes. He yawned.

"So can I talk now?" He sounded irritated.

Tohma shook his head.

"Jesus H. Christ on a fucking pogo stick! You're a real wierdo, you know that," the kid said, making no effort to curb his voice. "Where's the pisser?"

Tohma pointed to the screen which concealed the ensuite.

"Tohma?" Mika was back on the phone.

"What's happened?" Tohma said wearily.

"Nothing. It's just..." The door slammed in the background again. Mika switched to a chirpy girl talk voice. "No _really!_ She _didn't_, did she?"

"No she didn't," Tohma said firmly. "Why don't you call me back later, when it's a good time to talk?"

"Darling!" Mika said exuberantly, "if your boyfriend is that jealous, it's never a good time to talk... Well you might think so... but if he's around _all_ the time, and he listens to _all_ your calls..."

The door slammed in the background again.

"His wife had an affair you know," Mika said in a more normal voice, "that's why he ditched her, now he's completely paranoid. He really is."

"I see."

"Tohma have you heard of a band called Sonic Noise?"

"Industrial Metal, nasty. Look..."

"A friend of mine really likes them. He's their biggest fan. He's got the CDs, the special edition DVD, he's even got the collectible sticker book."

Tohma suddenly felt extremely sorry for Tanaka-san.

"It's really not the sort of music I like, Mika. Listen..."

"They're playing the Round House next Thursday and they're completely sold out. I know this is a bit cheeky." She did at least have the grace to sound a little guilty, "I don't suppose you'd be able to get me a couple of tickets?"

The kid came back from the bathroom, he was sipping from a tooth glass full of water. He ran his fingers through his hair.

"Look this isn't a good time after all," Tohma told Mika, "Ring my secretary in the morning."

He put the phone down.

"So can I talk _now_?" The kid asked. He took his T-shirt off and climbed back into the bed.

"It was just a business call," Tohma said.

"Yeah right." The kid was frankly disbelieving, "I'm awake now. Are we going to fuck or what?"

"Tohma have you taken something? Tohma listen to me, what have you taken?"

Late one night. Tohma had just got back. He was lying on the sofa almost on a comedown; late nights and up and coming bands almost gave him the sort of buzz he used to have when he'd just come off stage. It was a vicarious buzz, not the same thing as it had been when he had stood there himself, and back then there had been late night parties to help you back to earth. He closed his eyes and saw the yellow blaze across his eyes. Five years ago and even in the audience he could see that clear distinction – the light that blinds and a sea of darkness that is made up of everyone and anyone. Tonight the darkness had been hostile; undeservedly so, the band was unexceptional, they had said nothing offensive, sung nothing that could annoy and yet the audience had hated them. It happened that way sometimes, you could never put a finger on it, but sometimes you got a band that had everything going for them on the surface; a good sound, a perfectly presentable front man, and for some reason the audience just didn't take them into their hearts, they weren't even prepared to listen. It was a shame but it was something you couldn't really do anything about. And then despite the ill-will from the punters, the band had turned them around, taken a crowd which really didn't like them and made them _love_ them. The band had them eating out of their hands by the end of the set. It was a stunning piece of showmanship. He reached for his PDA.  
The phone rang.

"Tohma love, I hope I didn't wake you."

"Mika?"

"sorry to ring so late."

"that's alright."

"I called before, earlier. You weren't in." She sounded like she'd been crying.

"I've just got back."

"Are you OK, you sound a little out of it?"

"I'm fine. How are you?"

"I'm fine. Everything's just hunky dory in Mika-land."

"How's Tanaka-san?"

"He's a bastard."

"Aren't they always?"

"Maybe." Mika laughed wryly, "Maybe its me, maybe I make them bastards. Maybe they're all wonderful to start with and I change them. It's me that makes them monsters. Ever think about that Tohma?"

"Come on pet, don't be silly."

"It's a valid point, they can't all be wankers. There can't be that many bastards out there, it's me Tohma, it's got to be. I do something to them. They start off perfectly normal members of the human race and they finish off bastards. It is me, they can't all be like that."

"There's nothing wrong with you, Mika. You know that."

"..."

"You never turned me into a bastard... Or was I?"

"That was different."

"It was?"

"Oh I don't know. I miss you. I know it sounds crazy, but I miss you."

"I miss you too."

"You do?"

"Yes."

"You could say that again to help my ego."

"You're interesting, and you're fun and I miss you."

"I miss you too, Tohma."

"Come on To-chan you can't lie down here. You can't go to sleep. Can you stand up. Tohma _please _try and move."

"Uesigichi-san for you."

"Put her through."

"Hello Mika, how are you doing?"

"Not so good Tohma."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"Sorry to ring you at work."

"I'm not that busy."

"I'm sure you are, you've always had good manners. Tohma?"

"What?"

"Can I ask you something?"

"What's wrong?"

"Look, can I stay with you for a few days?"

"Sure."

"It won't be more than a few days, I promise. I just need somewhere to stay."

"Most of your stuff is still in the house."

"Yes, I _know._" Mika sounded sheepish, "I never did get round to picking it up. I'm so disorganised, I really am. I did mean to pick it up. I'm sorry. I'll take it all with me this time."

"That's not what I meant. I meant that if I was able to put up with your stuff just lying round the house for the last six months, I could probably put up with having you lying around the house as well."

"Charming!"

"You're easy on the eyes, Mika."

"Goodness me, was that a compliment?"

"I could be more complimentary."

"You're being mildly pervy before noon. You're obviously coming down with something."

Tohma laughed. "Just come back home Mika. You don't need to find somewhere else to live."

"Tohma, I don't want to impose on you. Really I don't. It won't be for long, just till I find a new place."

"Why are you moving out anyway?"

"Two's claustrophobic, and three's a crowd," Mika said wryly. "He's got back with his ex-wife. He always had a thing about her. I don't care. He was a wanker anyway, and she's a bitch. They deserve each other, they really do."

"You've still got the keys."

"Yes. What sort of time will you be coming back this evening? Do you want me to pick up anything for dinner?"

She came back, and she stayed for three years. When she left him again it had all been Tohma's fault, it turned out he was a bastard after all.

Ryuichi was on his phone. He was talking in English.

"K-san.. I'm sorry to ring you so late. There's a problem. You were the first person I could think of... No K-san. No prostitutes this time... No I haven't been arrested... No don't be silly... For fucks sake I don't have time for this"

"Sorry K-san that was rude... No _I'm_ not in trouble... Yes. I know its four in the morning... Yes I know you're not my manager any more... Alright the second person I could think of... He _is_ the problem K-san... Please I don't want to talk about this over the phone... Room 414 the Plaza."


End file.
